Iridescent
by Vestina
Summary: "The tension between them boils uncontrollably. And then there is some kissing." Being a rendition of the tale of James and Lily. Simple drabbles told in exactly 100 words.
1. One

She can't believe it.

Those bloody marauders stole her shoes.

One moment they were on her feet, the next, gone.

She wants them back. They're her favorite pair.

So she walks straight up to him, because who else would pull a stunt like that, and says, "Give them to me."

He doesn't look up. "What are you willing to offer in return?"

"What could I possibly have that you want?"

Now he looks up, his hazel eyes devious. "A kiss," he says simply.

"No way. No bloody way."

"Then it looks like you're not getting your shoes back anytime soon."


	2. Two

She looks out the window of their new apartment. She hates that they have to keep moving, but it's too dangerous to stay in one spot.

She feels him come up behind her and plant a kiss on her neck.

"Why does the world hate us?"

"You really think that?" he murmurs softly. "Cause I'd say we're pretty lucky."

"And what happens when our luck runs out?"

"We screw the world and brew our own. I'm hoping you remember a thing or two from old Slughead."

"You're the super-genius James Potter. Why don't you remember?"

"I was lousy at potions."


	3. Three

"You really are an arse, aren't you!"

"What the hell-"

"Don't give me that, Potter! Don't you-"

"Evans," he says quietly, and she's so shocked, she stops mid sentence.

"What?" she growls through gritted teeth.

But he doesn't have anything to say. Because she's right. He is an arse. And she deserves so much more. His throat goes dry, and he turns to leave. Because he can't just sit here.

"Where are you going?"

"This obviously can't work."

"Is that what you want?"

He whips back around and swiftly takes her face in his hands. Kisses her fiercely.

"Hell no."


	4. Four

"Oi! Evans!"

She looks up from what she's doing, a scowl pointed at him. She must realise it turns him on when she's angry.

"What do you want?"

"Hogsmeade? Next weekend?" He wiggles his eyebrows a bit. To make her smile.

It doesn't work. "Potter, I am never going to Hogsmeade with you."

"You don't know that."

"I sure as hell do."

"One day Evans. You'll see..."

"Yeah, one day I'll shove my foot up your arse."

"I'll be waiting."

He turns to go, but he sees a hint of a smile on her face.

And that gives him hope.


	5. Five

It's not quite as creepy to watch her under the invisibility cloak now that they're dating.

Unfortunately, she can feel him watching her neck. Which he finds a damn shame.

She rolls her eyes toward him. He marvels her uncanny ability to meet his invisible gaze.

She yanks off the cloak. "This isn't a game."

"It is now."

"Well, I always win."

"I have a few tricks up my sleeve." Pulls her close enough to feel her breath.

"Never underestimate your enemy."

"I'd advise you to do the same."

Tension between them boils uncontrollably.

And then there is some kissing.


	6. Six

He's doesn't know why he's head boy. It's probably proof Dumbledore is nearing insanity.

Running with werewolves and pranking Slytherins isn't the ideal model student.

But he has a suspicion he was chosen because of his blood status. Or more importantly, his attitude toward his blood status.

There's honestly nothing he loves more than being a fucking blood traitor.

She's an obvious choice. Clever and witty and undeniably well-liked. Unfortunately, being muggle-born makes her a target.

She needs him. She might not admit it, but he knows it's true.

If only he could get her to fall for his charm.


	7. Seven

"Hey," he says, walking up to the armchair she's buried herself in. "What's wrong?"

She looks up at him in faux-surprise, knowing exactly what he's mentioning but not ready to talk about it with him. "I'm sorry...?

"You've been acting weird, and I want to know why."

"You're very demanding."

"And, you're trying to get me off topic. Lily..."

"Later, kay?"

He shakes his head. "No. Not okay-"

She interrupts him. "I'm going to bed, James. See you in the morning." She kisses his cheek and climbs the stairs to her dormitory.

Knows if she looks back, she'll start crying.


	8. Eight

"Damnit, Potter!"

He laughs, a low chuckle that makes her squirm in pitiful defeat. Again.

"Jeez, Evans. You think after four times..."

"You never mention this or I swear I'll-"

"Threats? That's kinda low, Evans."

She glares at him.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you actually enjoy spending time with me," he muses.

"What?"

"Well, it's Friday night, and we're in the head's office playing chess. Not exactly thrilling, but I'll take it."

"In your dreams, Potter."

He smirks. "Keep telling yourself that, Sweetheart. Maybe one day it'll come true."

"Merlin, you're an ass."

"Another game?"

****"You're on."


	9. Nine

They're dead. Her parents are dead.

She's empty inside. Like everything is flying away and no matter how hard she tries to catch the wisps, she can't.

The Dark Lord killed them because she's muggleborn.

She runs and runs until she can barely feel her legs and when she stops, she's in the Forbidden Forest.

Her ankle is twisted, she's bleeding where the branches snagged her skin, and tears blur her eyes.

Somehow, he finds her. And even though she hates him more than she can express, she lets him hold her.

Because she's not strong enough to hold herself.


	10. Ten

They lounge at a bar in the Leaky Cauldron.

She loves doing Order missions with him. Especially when he has to change his hair blond.

He runs his fingers through it like he always does when he wants to get on her nerves.

"I dunno, Evans. You look pretty sexy with black hair."

"You sure?"

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Course."

"You're just jealous."

"Very true. I look like an American surfer."

She laughs. "I definitely wouldn't keep it that way."

"Why, baby? You like it black?"

"Course not. But it's much better than that shitty squirrel hair you've got."


	11. Eleven

She listens intently to the sound of Diggory's voice but can't concentrate hard enough to understand anything he says.

Finally, she can't take it any more, apologizes, and runs out the door of The Three Broomsticks.

Because he was watching them. And she's about to snap. Or admit that she fancies him.

And she doesn't find either option particularly attractive.

She looks over her shoulder and sees his shaggy hair over the top of the crowd. Darts into a shop as not to be seen.

After resisting his charm for all this time, she can't go down without a fight.


	12. Twelve

He twirls the straw in his glass, hating the awkward silence between them. He doesn't know why she ever agreed to do this. She's obviously uncomfortable.

He presses his lips together and says, "Evans, if you don't want to be here, leave. I'm not going to stop you."

"What?" she asks, incredulous. "You've wanted this date for years and now you're quitting halfway through?"

"I don't want to force you to be here. Hell, that's the last thing I want."

"That's really sweet, Potter."

It's quiet for a moment. "You gonna leave?"

She smiles softly. "No, I think I'll stay."


	13. Thirteen

He's watching her. Again. She can feel his hazel eyes on her neck. Burning holes in her spine.

It's not like she isn't used to it. But it's creepy when he does it all the time.

She's made a game out it, her attempt to make light of the ever darkening situation. Can she guess when he's staring?

Times she's been right this week: 24

Times she's been wrong this week: 2

Total times she's ever been wrong: 6

Looks like she's winning.

Or else he's always staring. She's afraid of which it is.

But she's pretty sure she knows.


	14. Fourteen

He's doing it again. Running those damned fingers through that damned hair of his.

She can't even see his face. He's three rows behind her.

But it doesn't matter. And it's making her extremely agitated.

He finds her on their way out of Potions.

"You gotta stop doing that."

"What? This?" His fingers muss the black locks.

"Yes. That," she growls through gritted teeth.

"Is it too sexy for you, Baby?"

Rolls her eyes. "You wish."

"Then why should I stop?"

She suddenly finds she can't answer him.

"Looks like I win again. You need to step up your game."


	15. Fifteen

She finds out about Remus' secret when they're in second year and she's in the hospital with a particularly bad headache compliments of James Potter.

Remus isn't there. He's supposed to be sick.

And then it hits her.

He's always sick. Every month.

She isn't sure if she should tell him she knows. She doesn't want to make him feel outcasted. So she keeps it to herself. For two years.

It's weird. Because she hears his friends talk about it. In code words.

But when she does admit it, he smirks and says, "I already knew you'd figured it out."


	16. Sixteen

Before now, she'd had no idea how dirty teenage boy's minds really were.

He'd just left his cloak in the head's office, so of course she slipped it over her shoulders.

Then he climbed through the door with half the Quidditch team.

She's trapped. She can't just leave because someone would notice the portrait opening.

But she's never had a stronger urge to escape anywhere. This is absolutely disgusting. Her respect level for Potter plummets.

They don't clear out until sometime after midnight.

"You can take the cloak off, Evans."

Which makes it pretty obvious he knew the entire time.


	17. Seventeen

He wishes dearly that the loathsome git would stop talking to her. Or even looking at her.

What does she see in the slimeball?

Potions is the worst. It's the one class where he isn't the best, where he can't compete with that bastard.

He knows she doesn't see Snape as anything more than a friend. She's made it very apparent.

But it doesn't stop the greasy-haired-git from liking her back.

Either way, he's jealous. Not something he's proud of, but it's true.

****Because he knows if it came down to it, friendship trumps anything he's got up his sleeves.


	18. Eighteen

"Ow! Watch where your oversized feet are going, Potter!"

"If you weren't in the way, this wouldn't happen."

"You broke my toe!"

"I could kiss it better for you."

She glares at him. "Just toss me my wand!"

He smirks. "Wouldn't it be more fun if I carried you up to the hospital wing?"

"Wouldn't it be fun if you were in the hospital wing with a broken nose?" she snarls.

He shakes his head and flicks his wand at her foot. "Don't walk on it for twenty minutes."

"I could have done it myself!"

"I'm sure, Sweetheart. I'm sure."


	19. Ninteen

He makes sure the door is closed before he commences part four of this prank. For being so uptight about everything, McGonagall's office has extremely minimal security.

"Lumos," he murmurs, and the room illuminates instantaneously.

She stands there, her red hair glowing in the light of his wand.

"Shit."

She smirks, the slightest bit of malice touching her lips.

"You gonna turn me in Evans?"

"Hell no. I'm here to help you pull this prank."

He wiggles his eyebrows excitedly. "You're getting brave, Red. I like it."

She snorts. "If you're an arse, I'll leave."

"I find that highly offensive."


	20. Twenty

They lay on sandy towels as the waves lap at their toes, their fingers intertwined.

He stands rather suddenly. Lets go of her hand. Takes off running.

"What the hell Potter?"

He stops aways down and turns back to her. Smirks.

It's only a second before she sprints after him, her feet pounding the sand.

But he's running toward her too. Which she briefly finds odd.

Then he's tickling the bare skin of her abdomen, and she laughing so hard she feels lightheaded.

"I hate you!" she gasps.

"Do you?" And then he's kissing her and her breath dissipates again.


	21. Twenty One

"Why the hell do you keep following me, Potter?"

"Sorry." He throws his hands up in mock surrender. "Just wanted to make sure you weren't going to drown yourself."

"I'm sure."

"He shouldn't have done that.'

"What? Called me a mudblood? It was bound to happen eventually. Doesn't give you an excuse to stalk me."

He ignores her last comment. "You can't do that Lil."

"What?"

"Condemn him! Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm being an arse, Evans. I'll just leave you here."

"Wait," she murmurs and stands on her tiptoes to kiss his lips quickly.

"If you ever mention this-"

"Understood."


	22. Twenty Two

In their little apartment she stands at the kitchen sink cutting peaches. True the place has a few more rats than she'd like, but she's just glad for a place to call home.

She turns her head over her shoulder to see him come in.

Which makes her hand slip.

The peaches look a bit redder quite suddenly.

"Bloody hell!" she screams at her fingers.

"Holy fuck!" he panics. "Evans you're-"

"Don't just stand there! Use your wand, you idiot."

It's a simple charm. Takes him seconds to do.

"Well..." he muses. "It's a good thing I don't like peaches."


	23. Twenty Three

He lives in a fucking mansion.

She doesn't know why this surprises her. She knows he's rich.

But his house, if it can even be called that, towers over everything.

Her feet crunch in the slushy snow as she emerges from the car.

He invited her over for Christmas Vacation, claiming that with her parents... gone he didn't want her to be alone.

And also to finish the literal ton of paperwork McGonagall gave them as part of their head duties.

But she doesn't doubt he'll flirt with her too.

What scares her is that she doesn't find it repulsive.


	24. Twenty Four

"Why the fuck would you ever think that going out and-"

"Because I have nothing to lose James!"

"You have nothing to lose? What about this life we've built?"

"James-" she tries to interject, but he shakes his head.

"You married me, Lil. I can't imagine..."

"I know what I'm doing out there," she whispers.

"Do you? Lily, they hate your very blood!"

"And I'm fighting for my freedom. Aren't there things worth dying for?"

"Of course, but your life is also worth something! I want a life with you, Evans."

****She kisses his cheek. "That's what I'm fighting for."


	25. Twenty Five

"So... should I do it?"

"Propose? Hell, yeah Prongs."

"I don't know. It's not a great idea, with the war and all. Maybe..."

Sirius sips his firewhiskey carefully. "Does she make you happy?"

"Yeah," James admits.

"Then why not, Prongs? You two deserve better than this damned war."

"I can't. What if... what if she gets pregnant? I'm not raising my child in the middle of this hell!"

"You got a ring yet?" James shakes his head. "Get her one before this shit falls in your faces and you can't dig yourselves out. You deserve at least a little happiness."


	26. Twenty Six

The day after they move into the cottage at Godric's Hollow, she falls in love.

With a stray cat.

She waits on the porch as the twilight falls. Sees his little tail peeking over the curb.

The tuna in her hand smells.

The screen door swishes open. He steps through, scaring the cat across the road.

"I hate you."

He slips next to her. "I'm sure you do."

"He was everything to me."

"You've known him for twelve hours. I hope you love me a little more than that."

Nuzzling against his shoulder, she murmurs, "Only if you're a cat."


	27. Twenty Seven

She regrets ever letting him go.

It's not quite right anymore, the house so much emptier, quieter.

She knows this mission is crucial to winning this war from hell, but she hates that she's not with him.

She realizes now how hard she's fallen in love with him as her feet plod aimlessly around her kitchen. There was a part of her that was never sure she made the right decision in marrying him.

She hates how much she needs him. But there's a part of her that could never do this alone.

The bed is too cold without him.


	28. Twenty Eight

They were supposed to meet in the far corner of the library. Twenty minutes later, he's still not here.

She hoists herself onto the table and drums her toes on the chair. Waits.

And then, as she's about to go, a breeze floats along the back of her neck.

She stills, not sure what he's planning.

"James..." she murmurs.

And then his lips are on hers, and they're kissing so passionately her head spins.

She pulls away. "What the hell?"

"It's more fun to kiss you when you aren't expecting it."

She slaps his face. "Fuck you, Potter. Fuck you."


	29. Twenty Nine

He's so glad he's not a beater.

Not that he has anything against them, true they don't have quite the prestige chasers do, but the wind does weird things to bludgers.

He glances down and spots her flaming hair, blowing as though it really were fire.

Beautiful.

He catches the quaffle squarely in his hands, the impact making them sting. This is the best part, the moment before he scores.

Later, after they've won, he spots her. "Great match, huh?"

"Don't you ever get bored with pestering me? Why don't you try someone else?"

"And what fun would that be?"


	30. Thirty

The walls of their cottage in Godric's Hollow reverberate with the belting of his voice as he showers. She can't concentrate on her book.

He's terrible. So pitch deaf that she laughs under her breath.

He saunters down the stairs humming softly. "Babe?" he asks, confused by her grin.

"What?" she asks innocently.

"What's so funny?"

"Uh... nothing."

"You don't sound too sure."

She stands, discarding the book. Wraps her arms around his neck and buries her nose in his laundry-fresh shirt.

"Do me a favor."

"Anything."

"Don't sing. It defers from your masculinity."

"Really?"

"No, but it's pretty awful."


	31. Thirty One

She's staring at the wall with the saddest expression in her eyes.

He hates it when she's like this. He gets so damn jealous.

Because he knows what's on her mind without her uttering a single word.

She misses the damned bastard. He hates her very blood, and she misses him.

He doesn't say anything. It would only make things worse. There's too much pride locked inside his heart.

She's still quiet, but he lets it stay that way. Knows they'll talk about it later. Wants right now with her.

Because he honestly doesn't know how much longer they have.


	32. Thirty Two

Everything feels a little fuzzy when he slides in the booth next to her.

"What do you want?" she asks. Even in this state, he can hear the exasperation in her voice.

"I wanna know why you find me so repulsive," he slurs.

"Damn Potter, how drunk are you?"

"Few beers never hurt anyone. Now tell me."

"Not now. You won't even remember what I 've said when you wake up tomorrow."

"Then there's no risk."

"With you, everything's a risk."

He nods, his head rhythmically shaking up and down. "Aw fuck."

Then he throws up all over her shoes.


	33. Thirty Three

She's falling.

In love.

With him.

And it's so terrifying.

She really doesn't know what to do any more.

Some nights, she can't sleep.

Because it scares the fucking hell out of her.

But she knows better than to say anything. She refuses to make a fool out of herself.

So she acts like they're only friends.

But she slipping. Faltering.

She's pretty sure he can tell.

But she's not about to admit it.

And sure as hell not to his face.

But she's not sure how long she can keep up this charade.

It's not exactly worth her while.


	34. Thirty Four

He clenches his teeth together hard. "You can't do this."

"James, I don't have a choice. Why don't you understand this? That I can't sit here and put you in danger!"

"You aren't-"

"To hell I'm not! My fucking existing puts you in danger! Don't you see that you have everything? You're pure James."

He feels like crying. Knows he's gotta be the one who's strong.

"I'm no more pure than you are! How could you think I'd care about something so superficial?"

"How could you not care about your own life?"

"I love you. Nothing more than that matters."


	35. Thirty Five

"So..." She takes a swig of beer. "Truth or dare?"

"I'm more of a dare kinda guy, don'tcha think?"

"Fine," she smiles. "I dare you to take your shirt off."

"Evans, you didn't have to make that a dare. Just say the word, and my chest is yours."

"Merlin you're-"

"I'm what?" And now he's in her face, and hell yeah he's taken off his shirt.

She swallows unevenly. "Um..."

"Attractive?"

"I was going for arrogant."

"I'm going to kiss you."

There are so many reason she shouldn't want this.

But when his lips touch hers, she forgets every one.


	36. Thirty Six

Sirius Black gets the letter by owl post on a brisk April day.

At sixteen, he's devilishly handsome and has a way with girls rivaled only by fabulous chaser, James Potter.

Yet this letter trips him up a bit. Distracts him.

Invariably, Prongs notices. Like he couldn't. But Sirius doesn't tell him anything.

It isn't as if he cares much. It just hurts. More than he expected.

And when James finally pulls him aside and threatens to Imperius him into spitting it out, he breaks down and cries.

"They've disowned me. My family disowned me. I'm not a Black anymore."


	37. Thirty Seven

They have nothing to say to each other anymore.

He was the one who fucked this up.

Because while she's not saying anything either, this is his fault. And he has no idea how to fix it.

There is nothing left.

She looks as if she's about to cry. Or walk away.

"James, I don't know. I can't do... this! I can't sit here and just wait! You... Damnit!"

"What? Evans, I'm smart, but I can't read your mind!"

She stares at him for a minute.

"No, this isn't... I'm not... Damnit. Damnit all Potter. I... I love you!"

"Really?"


	38. Thirty Eight

The coals in the common room languish long after midnight, but it's just her now. She can't sleep these days, hasn't for months now. Ever since her parents died.

She can't handle the nightmares.

She hears a sound behind her. Sees his bespectacled eyes peering at her.

"It's a little late don't you think, Evans."

"I got homework."

He nods, but she knows he's not impressed.

And then the tears come and she's not sure why.

Somehow, his arms wrap around her shoulders, his thumb grazing her neck.

And it feels so comfortable, so right, that she cries even harder.


	39. Thirty Nine

As they wander across the grounds, he weaves his fingers through hers. Her eyes are darker than they should be. He hates that even here she won't relax, can't take her mind about the world outside of this bubble.

Squeezes her fingers. Points at the sky. "It's the color of raspberry tea."

"What?" But she's smiling.

"I want to pour it in a cup and drink it."

"You're insane."

"And you're beautiful." He loves the blush creeping up her cheeks.

"I hate you sometimes."

"I'm not kidding."

"Neither am I."

"About what? The insanity part, or that you hate me."


	40. Forty

"What would you do with three wishes?"

He looks at her like she's crazy. "I only get three?"

"Yes."

" And what happens if I choose wrong?"

"James it's a theoretical question! If you could be granted three things right now, what would they be?"

"I'd want... a pot roast. Damn, that sounds delicious.

She resists the urge to slap him. "You could have anything, and you want a pot roast?"

He pretends to think about it. "Yeah. I can't think of anything better. Except maybe a kiss from you. But I don't have to wish for that to happen."


	41. Forty One

Behind her, the noise escalates. She spins, catching his eyes dead on.

"You want to explain yourself, Potter?"

"Um..." The second year he hexed drops to the ground with a thud.

"Are you physically incapable of being a decent human being?"

"Are you capable of being anything except a fucking goody-two-shoes know-it-all?"

"As great of a comeback you think that may be, I'm still the one who can give you detention."

"I'm shaking in my boots."

"As long as you learn."

"Maybe you should punish me._ Personally_."

Her face twists in disgust. "Don't flatter yourself. You're so not attractive enough."


	42. Forty Two

He's never once hesitated over his decision to become an animagus. He loves is too much to waste time with regret.

It's freeing.

He doesn't have shit running around in his head. When he transforms, it vanishes. He can't think about human problems like Quidditch or his parents or Lily or the war.

He can run for miles and not feel a thing.

But what he loves most about it, is that he's not alone. Without Sirius and Peter and Remus, he'd go insane having all that quiet pound his skull.

And it also gives him something to scheme about.


	43. Forty Three

"Go out with me, Evans," he says, but somehow this time it's different.

Desperation simmers in his eyes.

She feels herself shaking her head. "James-"

"Damn you're beautiful."

"James..." she tries again, but she knows beyond a doubt he's going to kiss her, and she can't bring herself to stop him. She shuts her eyes, trying desperately to regain her bearings.

His fingertips caress her jaw. A tear slips down her cheek.

"Lily..." And then he's kissing her, and she's falling so hard. She can only kiss him back and hope there are no strings attached.

But she knows better.


	44. Forty Four

"James..."

"You don't have to whisper. Nobody's gonna hear."

"What about the werewolves out here?"

"You know damn well Remus is the only werewolf in a forty kilometer radius."

"It's called the Forbidden Forest for a reason!"

"That's just because of the spiders. They're pretty harmless."

"Not to mention it's after curfew. Is this date worth it?"

"Do you know how many things I've gotten away with?"

"I know how many times you've been in detention."

"Lils. Stop. We aren't gonna get in trouble."

"It's just... I've never done anything like this."

"Then it's a good thing you're with me."


	45. Forty Five

The clickety-clack of the train reverberates in her ears. The door to her compartment slides open.

He stands there, raking his fingers through his tousled hair. Enters when she doesn't say anything.

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't have to embarrass me like that."

He purses his lips. "Bad habit, I guess."

"How was I supposed to know you were Head Boy?"

"You underestimate my charm."

"Leave me alone, won't you?"

"We're gonna have to work together. It'd be easier if you cooperated."

"Go to hell."

"Gladly! However, I'm not dead."

"I can fix that."

"Give me chance. I might surprise you."


	46. Forty Six

She's angry with him. It's not like she usually isn't, but this is different.

He sang. To her. In the middle of the Great Hall.

Doesn't he understand that it humiliates her? That it makes her hate him?

She wishes she were stronger, that it wouldn't bother her so much.

And so, because the world hates her, he finds her at the top of the astronomy tower, staring off at the lake.

"I'm sorry."

"I don't care."

"Evans-"

But she's gone, her steps echoing quietly down the stairs.

Because she can't even look him in the eye without hating him.


	47. Forty Seven

She runs out the door of their little cottage. Leaves it flying in the breeze.

"Lily, what the hell?" he yells. Only his wife would have the urge to dance in the rain at eight-months-pregnant.

She twists her head around. Uses her smile alone to urge him down the steps. "It's beautiful out here!" Tilts her face back to feel the rain.

"You are insane, Woman!"

She shakes her head, her hair slipping from her ponytail. "Dance with me."

"Damnit," he murmurs, but already he's pulling her closer, his hands on her hips.

Because he can't imagine anything more perfect.


	48. Forty Eight

Her laughter breaks the silence.

"What?"

"This is so... awkward."

It's true, he knows. Them, like this, sitting in the heads common room, working.

Not arguing.

He's pretty sure that part's a miracle.

She flips her brilliant hair over her shoulder. He tries not to stare at it.

Fails.

"You looking for something?" she smirks.

"Uh, no. Just this..." He stares at the parchment in front of him, trying to decipher what may as well be hieroglyphics. "What the hell?"

She laughs. Looks over his shoulder. "That five should be a nine."

"Damn. Are you sure?"

"Actually, not at all."


	49. Forty Nine

"You're welcome!" she shouts at the costumed kids running down the porch. Turns to him. "I love Halloween."

He laughs, cradling a one-year-old Harry in his arms.

He's not sure what, but something feels off. Like a dream he can't quite remember.

He looks down at his son, dressed in an obnoxious muggle pumpkin outfit.

"Well, I think that was the last of those bloody kids."

"Don't be such a party pooper." Takes Harry from his arms. "It's someone's bedtime."

He locks the door, unable to shake the unease.

There's something ominous in the way the clouds cover the stars.


	50. Fifty

It's the purest quiet.

She's not sure, anymore. About anything. But for some reason, she feels strangely at peace.

His fingers weave through hers.

And then they're both laughing, because the irony of it all is so relevant, so obvious.

She's not afraid anymore.

Because even here, even now, she still has him.

And he makes her brave.

"This is it, Lily."

A part of her want to burst into tears.

But she can't remember why because he's kissing her now, turning her face toward his. Desperately. Passionately.

And behind them, the sky fades, and blurs, and turns iridescent.

_~Fin~_


End file.
